


I Got Tired of Burying My Friends

by ShadowHunter1031



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Death, Family, Fanfic, Fanfiction, Ficlet, Loss, M/M, One Shot, Prompt Fic, Scisaac - Freeform, Teen Wolf, friends - Freeform, sterek, tragity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 22:59:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9209099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowHunter1031/pseuds/ShadowHunter1031
Summary: I didn't know what to do, I just knew it needed to stop. I got tired of burying my friends.





	

A sterek, teen wolf, fanfic. | Mature | 2k | Contains major character death, self-harm and blame and all around angsty-ness. Trigger warning  
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I didn’t know what I needed to do but I knew it had to stop. Grave after grave after grave. I buried my friends one by one. After everything we had been through together we had hoped that the mess of supernatural shit was behind us. How wrong we were. We had walked right into a shit storm, unbeknownst to us at the time. There had been a handful of suspicious killings in town as of late. While still keeping my father in the dark about the whole thing, the new pack, minus Derek, decided to investigate.  
We started out by going to the location of one of the first murders. The warehouse was dark and silent near the outskirts of town when we arrived that night. Looking back on it now it should have been obvious. We thought it was safe and that we’d be able to handle it. Scott had counted 5 heartbeats inside. Cautiously we moved closer to the warehouse. Scott had been taking the lead ever since Derek left, I was right behind him, Boyd to our left, Erica to our right, and Isaac pulling up the rear.  
It was stupid of us to think that we were invincible. We entered the warehouse without having done any research and no idea what to expect. We had anticipated kanimas, other werewolves, or something worse. We hadn’t anticipated we'd be walking into a literal drug nest. That’s right, drug lords. Like wtf, who would have thought of that. They were taken by surprise at our entry but so were we at the lack of actual paranormal monsters to be battled. By the time we had recovered, so had they. The others, with their werewolf speed, leaped out of the way before the first bullet rang off. Pain exploding in my left shoulder, I fell with a less than graceful thud onto the dirt-covered concrete.  
Boyd and Scott took cover behind a pile of crates to the left of the entrance. Erica and Isaac ran to the metal pillars to the right of the doors. I laid there in a stunned stupor as shots continued to ring out around me. My head lolled to the right where I took in the shocked faces of Erica and Isaac. This had not gone anywhere near like we had planned. Of all the highly possible causes of death from supernatural beings, I was going to bleed out from a gunshot wound caused by some druggy. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Perhaps it would have been a good idea to inform my dad or anyone where we were going or what was going on before we had left.  
To the left, I could see Boyd trying to restrain a struggling Scott. A silent scream leaving his lips. The drug dealers, now all carrying pistols with semis slung over their backs, started to circle the entrance. Two to each side and one slowly walking towards where I lay on the ground. Erica and Isaac exchanged looks with one another, then a distracted Scott, before shifting and pouncing on the two stocky men walking towards them. Erica darted in front of them as Isaac attacked. Slicing the first across the chest before landing a solid punch to the man's face, knocking him to the ground. While this was going on, Erica dropped her shoulder and plowed straight into the second one’s gut, knocking both herself and him to the ground, where they wrestled for the gun.  
Another shot rang out and I closed my eyes, not wanting to see if one of my friends had been shot. Meanwhile, the leader, who was approaching me, slowed and took cover behind another pile of crates. Carefully, I reopened my eyes and took in the scene in front of me. Erica lay on her side, blood pooling outward from her; from a bullet wound in her chest. Silent tears left my eyes as I watched the blood stain her light hair. Her eyes stared blankly through me. Her attacker lay dead, his throat torn out, and a bloody Isaac was shaking as he crawled towards her and pulled her lifeless body into his arms.  
Closing my eyes, I turned my head from them towards Boyd and Scott. I watched as Boyd slapped Scott across the face trying to pull him from the pained stupor he was in, caused by the loss of a member of his pack. Gradually Scott’s eyes refocused and he gave a silent nod to Boyd before looking back at Stiles, then sinking to the ground. Boyd took that as his cue to attack. Shifted, he launched himself towards the men on their side. Charging one of them, he pinned them to the metal sheeting, where he proceed to punch them in the gut with his nailed fists, ripping pieces of flesh from the man’s body as he slumped to the floor. Ducking, Boyd spun toward the final man. The man’s hands were shaking as he tried to keep the gun leveled on Boyd as he stalked towards him. Another shot rang out, the bullet grazing Boyd’s side as he grabbed the man by his throat, lifting him into the air. He seemed to ignore the pain as he ripped out the man’s throat and let him drop unceremoniously to the ground.  
My vision started to blur as I watched Boyd stepped over the dead bodies and swiftly make his way to a hyperventilating Isaac. I reached a hand up to my shoulder, pulling it away to see it covered in my own thick blood. I pushed it back down, trying to keep pressure on the wound. A silent scream tore its way from my throat as I pounded my fist into the cement. Solemnly, Scott rose from the ground and made his way over to me, his eyes watery and glazed over.  
The fifth and final druggy, somehow forgotten amongst the chaos, rose cautiously from his hiding place. His gun trained on Scott as he approached me. Or so I'm told by Boyd. My whole attention was on Scott has he kneeled down next to me, reaching forward to apply pressure to my wound. The shot rang through the air before anyone could do anything. Blood splattering across my face as Scott looked down at himself, an exit wound prominent in his abdomen. Our eyes met as a wave of blood made its way from his mouth. Coughing up more blood he slumped forward, landing half on top of me.  
His head landed near the crook of my neck, his panicked eyes meeting mine before darting up to Isaac's. His face going soft, he mouthed a silent, "I'm sorry," before he dropped his head to rest on my shoulder. Isaac's scream pierced the air loud and heartbroken. Boyd's attention left Isaac as he ran full speed at the shooter, tackling him to the ground and ripping him apart with his claws as the waves of pain and loss ran through his body.  
The deafening silence stretched out until I heard Scott take his last breath, his mouth pressed close to my ear. My best friend and practical brother died in my arms as I continued to bleed out onto the cement, our blood mixing underneath me. I closed my eyes tightly, unable to look at Scott's lifeless eyes staring at me and the pain stricken look of loss on Isaac's face.  
I must have passed out sometime after that. The next thing I knew there were blue and red lights flashing and reflecting off the metal ceiling above me, casting the warehouse in a sickly glow. My vision began to blur again and my eyelids flickering as I heard the sound of my father's voice screaming my name.  
That was almost a week ago. I had woken up in the hospital to my father berating me about how stupid I was for running off like that without telling anyone. Granted he was right, but I couldn't handle that at the moment. I still had two funerals to attend. I didn't know Erica's family, but I soon learned that she had no one to plan her funeral. Boyd ended up planning the whole thing, a small closed casket gathering at a local funeral home. I stood in the back of the room, plagued by too much guilt to get any closer. I watched as Boyd, for the first time I'd ever known, cry. Tears continuously streaming down his face but no noise ever leaving him. Isaac sat next to him in a similar state, tiny whimpers making themselves known. I just felt numb. This was my fault. I did this. I left shortly after without ever approaching the casket.  
Scott's funeral was the next day. A big gathering held at his mother's church. Church, what a silly concept. Scott wouldn't have wanted a church funeral. But he was gone now, all that remained was the lifeless body he used to inhabit. Melissa had wanted me to give a speech, but I told her I couldn't do it. She left it at that and we both mourned his loss. Isaac sat close to Scott's casket, hiccuping sobs racking him, his body shaking violently. Boyd sat next to him soberly, an arm wrapped around Isaac's shoulders.  
I watched Melissa cry herself dry within the first half hour of the service. Random people that I bet never knew Scott or Melissa kept coming up to her to give their condolences. She looked as numb as I felt. Slowly, as if on autopilot, I made my way over to her and Scott's casket, also closed. Melissa wrapped me tightly in her arms, neither of us crying, just holding. Holding on to that last bit of normalcy. We stayed like that until another person made their way over. She let me go haltingly as if holding on to me would bring back her son. It only made me feel worse about the whole thing. I left shortly after that.  
My hand with the pills shook as I looked at myself in the mirror. The dark bags under my eyes and the hollowed expression of my face reaffirmed why I was doing this. It was my fault. It was my fault they got killed. It was my fault Boyd stopped talking to me. It was my fault Isaac had to bury the love of his life. It was my fault Derek left. I shouldn't have pushed him, I shouldn't have blown up at him. I just wanted everything and everyone to be happy, but now it was too late. They were gone and Derek was never coming back.  
Shakily I raised the pills to my mouth. Tossing them in, I followed them quickly with a glass of water. The empty pill bottle sat on the counter next to the sink. I turned from the mirror and made my way back into the bedroom that we use to share. The memory of his hands and lips on my skin made me smile into his pillow, the last bit of his scent still clinging to its fabric. His worn sweater hung loose from my body, his scent enveloping me. My eyes grew heavy as the time past, my body getting weaker and weaker as it started to shut down. My eyes shut for the final time as I heard the door to the bedroom open and a fresh wave of Derek's scent made it's way to my nose.  
I didn't know what to do, I just knew it needed to stop. I got tired of burying my friends.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading


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